


Chamber Magic

by yoshis10



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29015040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshis10/pseuds/yoshis10
Summary: Arianna Claire has a wonderful, flawless idea.It is going to go horribly wrong.
Kudos: 1





	1. Bird - Episode 1

_“Chamber music is a form of classical music that is composed for a small group of instruments [...] Because of its intimate nature, chamber music has been described as ‘the music of friends’.”_

Arianna Claire is a young girl. Barely seventeen, just started her third year of high school. Tall, fair skin, blonde curly hair, loyal to her friends- to a fault, even- and she has many friends. A loving family as well- two loving families, almost, with how closely she's tied to one girl in particular. She lives in a decent city, goes to a decent school, gets decent grades. She has a good life.

She also has a wonderful, flawless idea.

It is going to go horribly wrong.

Not swiftly and suddenly, in some great tragedy, a natural disaster borne of uncontrollable factors that will leave behind terrified onlookers thankful it wasn’t _them_ on the receiving end. No, it will go wrong as most things do; slowly, gradually, even subtly at first, akin to an apple just beginning to rot. Personal failings, personal _conflicts_ , and just a dash of bad luck- stirred and spurred on by a calamitous event, yes, but not caused by it.

Of course, she doesn’t know that. Can’t know it, even; she’s aware of the usual dangers, yes, but the meaning of the term “usual dangers” is about to shift rapidly. Outside-context problems, unknown unknowns. We could not have expected a dinosaur to have seen that great meteor approaching, to have predicted its own doom; it was only a dinosaur.

It won't happen for some time, naturally. She'll have her grace period, that glorious time in which nothing could possibly go wrong and all is right with the world. Would it be crueler to warn her, if the outcome is not in question? Would it be better to live freely, blind to the future? It doesn't matter at this juncture, does it? We cannot save the dinosaur.

All we could have done...

all we _can_ do...

is watch.

* * *

Flying was overrated.

Oh, sure, you got the great overhead view of the city, but you could get that from a plane window. Planes had advantages, too; no wind messing up your hair, no stupid bugs flying into your face, and if you were lucky you’d get some of those pretzel things and a soda.

Arianna juked left to avoid a wayward delivery drone- you didn’t have to _dodge_ in a plane, either- and only barely kept the bag of takeout boxes (mostly) level. She couldn’t even twirl or loop-de-loop while carrying anything important, which just sucked even more fun out of the whole ordeal. If it wasn’t so much slower, she almost would’ve rather walked.

Finally reaching the outskirts of town, she landed softly on the roof of a small, squat building. She climbed down a fire escape mostly one-handed, slowly and carefully- more for the sake of the food than herself. Glancing around as she reached ground level, she proceeded through several twists, turns, and seedy alleyways, taking the most circuitous route possible. This wasn’t the _worst_ part of town, but it was a close thing; really, most of the streets were so narrow as to be alleyways in all but name, and the two- and three-story brick buildings- nestled so close as to almost count as one massive building- made for strictly limited visibility. No one with any sense or anywhere better to go wandered these streets.

In short, it was the perfect spot for a hideout.

Finally, after a whole five minutes of walking, Arianna arrived. The building looked exactly the same as those surrounding it. No windows, no lawn, just a single steel door surrounded by solid brick walls and a sturdy roof. She unlocked the door with her _totally_ legitimately acquired set of keys, slipping inside and immediately shucking her shoes into a corner.

“Hey, I brought food!”

A chorus of replies called out from the kitchenette area. Good, everyone was already here! She moved inwards, already fishing out boxes of takeout. 

She had to make a good impression for the first _official_ meeting of the Instrumentals, after all!

* * *

Seven Days Earlier

* * *

“This is a horrible idea.”

It was a beautifully warm Sunday evening, and Arianna had met her best, closest, and most wonderful friend at their favorite café, the one and only Andre’s. It was a little hole-in-the-wall place in downtown Orches City, festooned with flower garlands and planters and tiny potted trees, and it served great coffee at decent prices in a clean building. It was usually fairly empty, too, even during the lunch rush. Really, it was all you could ask for out of a cafe... especially when it came to having difficult conversations. She wasn’t above bribery, and Char was not above being bribed.

Normally, at least.

Currently, Charlotte continued glaring across the table at Arianna, totally ignoring her cup of lemongrass tea. Arianna finished slurping the last of her milkshake- she’d finally managed to convince the barista to make her a 50/50 mix of the caramel and peppermint flavors, and it was just as good as she hoped- before finally responding. “It’s a better idea than going out alone, isn’t it?”

Charlotte grimaced, mysteriously unswayed by her brilliant diplomacy. “Being better than the worst possible option isn’t a real victory, Ari. You shouldn’t be going out at _all,_ you just found out last month! It’s dangerous and you know that, and there are already teams that work near the city. There’s not even that much crime here to begin with!”

Arianna smiled vibrantly. “C’mon, it’s only really dangerous near big cities, and Orches City is medium at best! Besides, since there are plenty of other teams that work near here, we could stick to the small fry that aren’t that much of a threat, and that would free up more experienced groups to tackle the bigger problems!”

Charlotte winced- those were good points, but... “I still don’t like it. Rounding up strangers to go- go _gallivanting about the city_ with, getting into fights?

“They’re only strangers until you get to know them!”

“Dammit Ari, can you _please_ take this seriously?”

Arianna’s smile dropped, replaced by a flat line; her eyes locked with Charlotte’s. “Listen, I do think it’ll be fun, but I _am_ serious about this. I know that I could get hurt, and I know the risks of trusting someone else with this kind of thing... but _I can help, Char._ I can do things that most people could never do, and I could _help people_ that most people couldn’t. If I have the ability to, shouldn’t I? Isn’t that the right thing to do? And isn’t it safer to train now, where it’s at least _safer_?”

“...”

Charlotte sighed. “Fine. You’ve got a point-”

Arianna cheered, pumping a fist in the air.”

“- **but!** You’ve got a point, but if you do this thing, I’m helping you, dork.”

Arianna’s fist dropped back by her side.

“What?”

“I _said_ I’m-”

“No, no, I heard you but- _what_? Char, you’re not...”

Arianna trailed off, looking into Charlotte’s eyes. Charlotte’s smile wasn’t a happy one.

“...Char, how long-”

“Four years.”

Arianna exploded into motion, practically lunging across the table to grapple Charlotte into a fierce hug-slash-death-grip; she kept her voice down, but it was a harsh hiss, a strong contrast to her lilting, carefree tone throughout the rest of the conversation. “ _You’ve been a magical girl for_ **_four years_ ** _and you only_ **_now_ ** _tell me?! I told you_ **_minutes_ ** _after I figured it out-_ **_how did you figure it out that early?!_ ** _”_

“Ari-” Charlotte wheezed, _when did she get this strong_ , “Ari, I couldn’t tell _anyone_ if I didn’t-”

“ _Twelve years!_ We’ve known each other for _twelve years_ and- and- and- I told you every crush, I told you about what happened with that banana peel, I-”

Charlotte took as deep of a breath as she could, what with the smaller girl latched onto her, and then exhaled. “Ari?”

Her soft, almost _lost_ tone cut Arianna’s maddened mutterings off immediately.

“Ari, I found out four years ago. What else happened four years ago, Ari?”

Arianna froze, motionless, as though her body had turned to marble; she paled, her complexion quickly matching. “Oh. _Oh._ Fuck.”

“Language,” Charlotte whispered.

“No, this- that is definitely worthy of a fuck, Charlotte.”

A breathy laugh escaped her. “Fine, fine. Now get off me, leech.”

“Nope, not happening.” Arianna converted her hug-slash-wrestling-hold into a proper hug, nudging Charlotte towards her tea. “You’re getting comforted and you’re gonna drink your excellent tea, and then we’re gonna talk about this in my room. Later. Tomorrow.”

Charlotte begrudgingly sipped her tea, leaning into her friend. Only Arianna would decide to start a team of magical girls, with strangers, not even a full month after becoming one herself. The girl was a trouble magnet, and she’d put money on that.

How much trouble remained to be seen.


	2. Bird - Episode 2

You may have been expecting to have a peek at that private meeting between Arianna and Charlotte- more specifically, to hear what exactly occurred four years prior to that revelation. It would likely consist of some ham-handed exposition on the nature of the world and the backstories of the characters involved- that’s how these things go, isn’t it? A bit early in the narrative for a tragic backstory, perhaps, but it’s not the first time someone’s made that sort of mistake.

Unfortunately, this story can’t afford to hit _all_ of the clichés right away. The “faceless omniscient narrator who speaks exclusively in noir monologues” gimmick has already taken up most of the budget for that thing, after all. No, you’ll have to cope with being left out of that conversation, I’m afraid. You’re not missing much, to be honest- it’s unlikely to be relevant to much else.

I’ll at least do you the courtesy of painting a picture of the next scene, in exchange. I won’t even throw in any cryptic musings or depressed commentary this time. Never say that your narrator isn’t willing to compromise.

* * *

It is five days before the first meeting of the Instrumentals, and the day after Aria and Char’s more private meeting. A Monday afternoon (just after school) in early January, to be precise. The two girls have convened at Arianna’s house once more, a small two-story building of little note in a suburb of similarly small import. Arianna’s parents have painted it a normal color, decorated it with personal touches here and there both inside and out- it is lived in, in short- but this is less ‘uniqueness’ and more ‘variation within acceptable boundaries’. It is different from the other houses on its street, but only in the way that identical twins might wear different shirts so as to be distinguishable.

Arianna’s room, naturally, conforms to this standard as well. She is a high schooler, not an interior designer. There are posters of some bands, movies, and the occasional video games attached to the walls with sticky putty. The exact media featured would be meaningless to you, but that’s only because you’re not familiar with the culture; they’re all fairly ‘mainstream’, in the least judgemental sense of the word. It’s not a crime to like popular things.

Underneath those posters is a coat of paint in a pleasant bubblegum-adjacent pink. Arianna likes the color, and she isn’t ashamed of it despite how often she’s told that it’s “stereotypically girly” or “for little kids”. There’s a sturdy wooden desk in the corner with a serviceable computer, writing tools, and papers, a queen-size bed with blue sheets, and a closet full of a variety of clothes, from the odd hoodie or dress to an overwhelming number of graphic tees and long skirts. But then, you don’t really care about any of those extraneous details, do you? You’re probably tapping your foot, waiting for the point to arrive. Well, there isn’t one- it just deserved to be described properly. Cope.

At this moment in time, both girls are atop the bed, roughly facing each other- Aria’s back to the wall, Char’s to the one window in the room, looking out over the house’s modest garden and towards the blank wall of the neighboring house. Charlotte is still more than a bit drained from yesterday’s discussion- and her own poor sleep schedule. She’s more laying down than sitting, viewing Aria through half-closed eyelids and listening with a _mostly_ awake mind. 

Arianna, on the other hand, bounces in her seat, arms moving in meaningless gestures as she talks. Normally, she would be pacing the room, sitting and standing and flopping over incessantly, often reaching out to bump shoulders or tap arms or grasp a hand for a moment or otherwise make contact. She is a very active, physical person, and (absent objections from other parties) is not shy about that. The recent events have subdued her energy to a degree, of course, but a few steps down from “small dog given stimulants” is still altogether too much energy for one person.

The current topic of discussion is one that was tabled for later in their previous meeting. Perhaps you’ll get that blatant exposition after all.

* * *

"You said you had...” Charlotte rubs the bridge of her nose. “A ‘list of possible recruits’. Already.”

Aria nods fervently. “Uh-huh! There’ve been sightings of a handful of girls working alone over the past month or two, mostly handling really minor stuff like catching pickpockets or getting cats out of trees and all- one even runs a delivery service, it has decent reviews online-” Cutting herself off at Charlotte’s glare, she sprung up to retrieve a stack of papers from within a cabinet, where they had been placed underneath a pile of old schoolwork. “Well, long story short, I scoured the ‘net for details, and I got a surprising amount! Some of them are unlikely to actually join- delivery girl seems pretty happy doing what she’s doing now, and she’s making decent money from it, or so I’ve heard- but! There are a handful that seem nice enough and liable to join up, at least based on what people are saying about them! Skillset info is a bit sketchier, but I’m pretty sure they’re at least decent! Mostly offense, defense, and interference, though, not so much traditional support, so I was worried about finding a healer, but, well-”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Yeah, your best friend turning out to be the pocket medic you were looking for was probably pretty convenient,” she snarked.

Aria’s grin was unfaltering. “Hey, you decided to join, you don’t get to tease me about that! Besides, with how grumpy you are, you were _destined_ to fall into the ‘grouchy team medic’ role sooner or later, right?” She stuck her tongue out at Char, who was feigning affront and holding a hand to her heart.

“Yeah, yeah, yuck it up at my expense,” Charlotte grouched after a moment. She reached out a hand, snagging the topmost group of stapled-together papers. “Let’s see wh- eh?! Aria, you _can’t_ be serious!”

The girl leaned in, peering at the papers- and then batted a hand at the prominent picture on the top page. “Oh, hell no, I just wanted to be sure we could _avoid_ her. Did you really think I was crazy enough to try to recruit-”

“Yes, if you’d gotten it into your head that she was ‘just misunderstood’ or ‘needed a friend’.”

“Char, come on, I’m not _that_ bad!”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” she responded dryly. “Now hand me an _actual_ candidate.”

“Alright, alright... first one up was really easy to find, she actually runs her own blog!” Aria handed over the thickest packet of the bunch, at least half again as large as most of the others.

“That’s... a bold choice.” The fact that Charlotte believed it to be a stupid choice was left unsaid.

“I know, right? Apparently she snagged technomancy or something close to it, makes it safe enough for her. Nobody’s figured out who she is, at least, and her blog’s been going for a solid three months now. She’s pretty popular, too!”

“Mmm. Sounds like decent interference, then, if a bit... flashy. ‘Keyboard Warrior’ is a horrible name, too.”

“Awww, I kinda liked it...” Aria’s pout had no effect on Charlotte’s judgemental stare towards the piece of paper in her hands.

“I’ll keep her in mind, but a glory hound could be trouble. Who’s next?”

* * *

The conversation went like this until dinner, then well after dinner, no less than fifteen individuals covered in depth. They ranged from those with as strong a public presence as the dreadfully named blogger to girls that appeared in mere seconds of footage, increasingly vague witness testimonies, and outright rumors, the only consistent factors being when and where the girls appeared. Anyone with even the slightest chance of being contactable was in the list, regardless of how much- or how little- other information was gathered.

The conversation dragged onwards into the late evening. Fortunately, Charlotte had secured a weekday sleepover, bartered for with a claimed (and entirely true) need for companionship and promises of group studying and completed homework on pain of death (or worse- grounding). Both girls securely under the blankets- on opposite sides of the bed- the hushed discussion carried on. The need for papers had passed, as all candidates had been covered; now was the time for deciding on selections. 

They called a halt at eleven PM. It would have run longer, but both girls had school in the morning and Arianna wasn’t about to let Charlotte get away with staying awake until dawn under her own roof, _especially_ not in her very own bed. As such, they came to a tentative agreement, to be ironed out the following day.

Three other girls would be reached out to at first. Five was the ideal starting group size, in both their opinions. If any of their first picks turned down the offer, or simply didn’t respond, they’d selected five more to be reached out to in order. 

In addition, once the team was properly formed, they’d make contact with a number of independent girls and fully-fledged teams alike. Charlotte felt that building connections with those in the same line of work would be important in the long-run; Arianna simply welcomed the chance to make new friends and meet new people.

A list of the final candidates could be placed here, haphazardly dumping information onto the unsuspecting audience like a sudden hailstorm. However... well, we’ll meet the other members of Aria’s team soon enough, won’t we? Surely you can be patient until then, my friends.

Until next.

~Narrator.


End file.
